


Enemies and Friends

by Calleva



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:20:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22304044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calleva/pseuds/Calleva
Summary: Sequel to 'Why Not Adele?'Quite alone and abandoned by her rescuers, Adele finds refuge deep in the French countryside. But trouble follows her and she must seek help to escape it once again.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Enemies and Friends

His Eminence averted his eyes and winced slightly at the sound of the pistol shot. A moment of sadness crossed his heart; she had been so lovely and he had greatly desired her. Then she had betrayed his trust with a younger, better looking man and his jealousy wove through him like a chill. She had to die and her grave would be a heap of disturbed leaves in the forest where the two Red Guards would bury her. He sighed and rapped the partition behind him, "Drive on!"

\-------

Once the sound of carriage wheels had faded, one of the Cardinal's guards helped Adèle to her feet and pushed some coins into her trembling hand "It's all I have - now flee."

Without looking back at the road, Adèle fled into the trees. She was homeless and penniless but at least she was still alive. 

She sank down onto the soft forest floor and tried to drive the panic from her mind. This morning had seemed like any other, she had dressed in happy expectation of the Cardinal's surprise. Now her world had been taken from her and she was in fear of her life. Only Aramis could help her and he was the last person she could turn to. He'd vow to kill the Cardinal, and have on his conscience the death of France's senior churchman. He would hang for it.

But Armand would prove very difficult to kill, and then he would come for her. 

She started to walk, thinking. They'd taken the north-western road out of Paris for about half an hour before the Cardinal had stopped the carriage; she now needed to get as far from the capital as possible. Bury herself in a sleepy little village and hope no one talked about the finely dressed lady who suddenly appeared among them. Carefully, she pulled the silver ring from her finger and loosened the little jewelled comb from her hair. These she stowed in the pocket of her gown. 

On and on she walked, past clusters of hovels, drinking from steams and once even a horse trough, until she came to a hamlet which, although small, showed signs of life. The smell of cooking made her stomach growl. A small bell tolled from somewhere. Adèle wondered if she should ask for help at the presbytery but dismissed it. It was still too close to Paris to risk approaching a churchman for help. Seeking peace for her soul and solace for her weary feet she slipped inside the little chapel. 

The interior was dark and plain with a couple of crudely-wrought statues and an old, chipped font that must have dated from an earlier age. Adèle realised that she had got used to the gilding and fine artwork of Paris churches. This is how most people live, she mused; simple lives with simple needs and little of any finery whatever. She knelt and prayed, seeking guidance as to what to do next.

Her childhood in Tours had been a happy one. She'd been one of the older children of a large brood and helping was a necessity, even in a household where there was a cook and a maid, so Adèle knew how to perform simple household tasks. They had done well enough on her father's income as a notary, but they were never wealthy in the way Paris people were. Guillaume Bessette had died in his fifties and her mother remarried and was now living with her new husband on the Vendée coast, enjoying the healthy sea air. Constant childbirth had weakened her health, and with younger children still at home, she had needed to find another husband. 

Adèle's stepfather was a sombre and humourless man, disapproving of her choice of profession. "An actress," He had intoned in that droning voice of his. He had made no other comment but it was clear he thought actresses were no better than the drabs who hung about the streets at night in the less elegant areas of the city. Perhaps he had been right; she had, after all, become a powerful man's mistress. 

But what else could she have done? She might have found work as a servant - gentlewomen were sought after in grand households - or a governess or teacher. The problem was she didn't know enough. Her mother had assured her that pretty young women didn't need more than a basic education. Ever since Adèle was taken to see an entertainment as a birthday treat, she had wanted to go on stage, to sing, dance and pretend to be whoever she needed to be.

She moved to Paris and the city loved her gaiety, her laugh and her singing voice. Acting came easily to her - and later when she caught the eye of the Cardinal she used her acting ability for all it was worth to convince him that she returned his passion.

He must have found the pistol under her bed. Aramis' weapon, left behind in a hurry.

Nevertheless, there was something sinister and creepy about the way he seemed to know everything. Had he been spying on her? Did some lackey report every sigh and groan from her bedchamber when she and Aramis were together? She shuddered. Thinking of Aramis made every fibre of her being long to be with him, safe in his arms; but that was another life, the one she had yesterday. Now she must put her memories and her longing aside and present her best face to an unknown future. 

\--------

In the end the decision to avoid the clergy proved impossible. Raising her head from prayer, she saw that the curé had come in and was looking at her. "May I help you?"  
He had the air of a countryman who had never so much as travelled in a carriage. A rustic among his own, she decided.  
"I find myself needing a place to stay..." she began, realising that he was looking thoughtfully at her silken gown, stained and dusty with travel. And out it came, the story that she hadn't had time to concoct but which flowed perfectly from her actress' mouth. She had been travelling to visit her sick mother when the carriage was attacked. She had escaped, leaving her belongings on the coach, and hidden from sight. With no money other than a few coins she needed somewhere to stay and some work to do before she could afford to travel further. The priest nodded, "The roads are often unsafe. It is a pity that you did not have armed escorts."  
"Can you help?" She fixed her wide blue eyes on him pleadingly. "I'll see what I can do." He murmured. "Please come with me."

The priest's house was perfectly clean and habitable. His housekeeper brought her something to eat while the curé left on an errand. To her surprise, Adèle found that she was still praying while she ate. She realised that she hadn't stopped praying since she had fled into the forest. She had wheedled at everyone else, why not try God as well?

It may have been a small village, but it had a miller and he was prepared to give her simple work. "It won't pay much," the curé warned her, "but the mill has a simple loft where you can sleep. It's quite dry and comfortable, I have seen it for myself. If you really need work, you will take it."  
Adèle realised that he didn't entirely believe her story, "I'm most grateful to you, this is exactly what I was hoping for."

If Adèle was a little dismayed that she wouldn't be staying with the family, she was soon reassured when she entered the Dubois household. There were children running about everywhere and the entire dwelling had only two rooms. It would be impossible to get any privacy in such a place. Among the noise and activity presided the dour figure of Madame Dubois. "The reverend said you were fancy," she said "I hope you are not above plain work."  
Adèle dipped a quick curtsey, "Oh no, Madame, I am quite willing to do as you ask." She bit her lip, hoping that she wasn't going to be asked to do anything she didn't know about. "You can start," said Madame, "by washing the bairns' clouts. There's a pile of them in that pail over there. There's soap and water in the yard."

Still smiling, Adèle carried the pail of soiled nappies into the yard where she found a scrubbing brush and a large metal tub waiting. 

Her hands felt cracked and dry when she was at last released from the Dubois household to the solace of the Mill's attic. Before her arrival, the eldest daughter, Jeanne, had been the skivvy, and it had been she who had readied the little room for its new guest. A deep layer of soft straw with several blankets had been laid out, and an upturned barrel with a blotchy mirror and battered comb served as furnishing. A small narrow window let in light. 

After a few days, Adèle thought she had figured out the Dubois household quite well. The chores were tedious but not beyond her and she found herself feeling fitter than she had in a long time. Marie Dubois had given her an old dress to wear; a simple one-piece that laced at the bodice and went over her shift. On her feet she wore carved wooden clogs. The dress dated from Madame's earlier life, before childbearing filled out her figure. Marie Dubois, she realised, was not naturally grumpy but permanently tired, which affected her mood. She had become almost affable now Adèle was part of the family. Monsieur, however, was now the problem.

He was already in the Mill by the time Adèle came down on the second morning. He hadn't started his days' work yet, she noticed. He asked her if she had everything she needed. Adèle was quick to assure him that all was in order. "Well if you need anything, be sure to let me know." He said slowly. That night, Adèle pushed the barrel against the attic door and the next morning she sought out some discarded wooden boxes and carried them to her room, the better to protect herself. 

Her peace wasn't secure though. A week later, as Adèle left the house for the short journey to the Mill, Monsieur got up from the dining table and said "I'll come with you. I left a couple of things up there, so I might as well see you safely to your roost."  
Adèle looked askance at Madame who shrugged. _Doesn't she care?_ thought Adèle desperately, and then to her dismay realised that indeed Madame did not. She probably found her husband's attentions wearying after a day of running after his children. If another woman had to bear the brunt of it, perhaps it would be a relief. 

Arriving at the Mill it was soon clear what Monsieur had come for and it wasn't equipment. Adèle made quickly for the ladder but he was too fast for her. "Come on now, be nice, I pay your wage." His breath smelled of stale onions and greasy stew.  
"Let me be - I'm a respectable woman!"  
"Why would a fine lady like you come to a place like Gerberoy if you was honest?"  
Adèle's mind raced. She recalled a session with Aramis when he had showed her some fighting moves, at her request. That had ended up with them wrestling amicably on the bed, but he had taught her a few simple ways to defend herself.  
"NO!" Adèle insisted as the miller's work-hardened hands reached for the lacing on her homespun gown. 'Surprise is all', Aramis' voice echoed in her ear. She brought up her knee firmly into his groin. As he doubled up, she raced up the ladder and barricaded herself into her refuge.

Alone, she listened for his footfall as he headed home to his family. She might have put him off for this night but what about the rest? She could go to the curé, but he might not believe her. Jean Dubois would doubtless spin a tale of how he was lured by her sluttish city ways. With Madame as good as complicit, she would end up pregnant and helpless, condemned as a harlot and a witch-seducer of husbands. She must leave before that happened.

Monsieur was busy the following day with a large order. Madame sent Adèle to help him stash the sacks full of flour onto the cart. She worked silently, keeping in the open air as much as possible rather than the shadowy mill. He did not speak unless necessary and seemed intent on avoiding her but Adèle was not fooled. He was no doubt biding his time.

There were days when, despite the trials of the Dubois household, Adèle felt content with her life in Gerberoy. It had provided a complete change to her earlier life, helping her come to terms with the shock of her near-execution. She was busy, and this pushed other worries out of her mind; and the day came when at nightfall, alone in her attic room, she realised she hadn't thought of Aramis once.

Adèle didn't often have cause to go into the village as Madame liked to run errands whenever possible, leaving her in charge of the children. However, she had occasionally visited the Malmaison bakery with Monsieur, helping him deliver the flour. Today they needed another loaf and she quickly volunteered to get it. It made a break from the endless floor sweeping and washing of soiled clouts.

Robert Malmaison greeted her with a friendly smile. "Order for Madame Dubois? What will you have today Mam'selle?" He always treated her with respect, sensing that she was used to a gentler life.  
"I'll take a large loaf and a couple of honey rolls, please"  
"Not one for yourself?"  
She shook her head. "I'm fine, really." There was to be none for her but she didn't mind; she went in dread of piling on the inches. "How is your brother and his family?"  
"Jacques was over at Les Pins doing his stargazing and he must have caught something. He and his family are trying to shake it off before the fair comes. Here, have a honey roll for yourself." He winked at her and put the roll in her hand. Adèle realised she was hungry enough to eat it on the spot. "Well I hope they recover soon. Make sure you don't catch anything yourself." She swung cheerily away, knowing that Robert's eyes were on her as she went.

The day of the fair saw Jacques Malmaison and his wife and two sons in good health, but Monsieur complained of a cough; it was not enough to keep him from going out however. The family climbed onto the cart to make the journey to the fairground. There was no room for Adèle who would have to make the five mile journey on foot. Something made her run back to the mill to get her shoes - she didn't often wear them, but she should look her best on a special day like this. 

The wooden boxes she used to barricade her bedroom door had proved useful for storing her old clothes. She gazed at these symbols of her former life. They had seemed grubby after her hike from the forest, but now their silken gleam drew her. She pulled them all out, thinking. She might earn a few extra coins telling fortunes. She had done this in her earlier life - it was easy, just observe the questioner and be guided by their comments. 

Adèle shimmered in her city clothes among the stalls for the largest turnip and best home-brewed ale. People came in curiosity and sat to have their fortunes told. Villagers' lives were mostly quite predictable, Adèle made no mention of sickness, poverty or bodies broken down from incessant toil. The fair also attracted wealthier people and Adèle found herself doing a brisk trade. She noticed Madame watch her as she pocketed her coins and realised with a sinking feeling that Monsieur was also watching her. In her finery and out of that dowdy work dress, she looked much more becoming; the lower cut of the silk dress had been made to catch the eye. It was certainly working, unfortunately. 

"You must tell my fortune," He came up behind her with a hint of a leer. Adèle gave a brittle laugh "Oh come Monsieur, it's all innocent fun, you surely don't believe I have the gift do you?"  
"Well you shouldn't promise what you can't give." He was eyeing her cleavage now.  
"It's easy to tell fortunes just by looking at people and finding what troubles them." She crossed her arms, protecting herself from his gaze, "I hate to mislead."  
"Well I ain't misleading." He looked at her ominously and strode off.

So it would be tonight. 

Adèle wondered if she should simply submit, since she was hardly going to have a choice. She had, after all, been mistress to a man she had never desired. Surely it couldn't be that different - a Cardinal and a miller would be alike in bed. At least with Armand she had the benefit of luxury and silk clothing. Jean Dubois would give her nothing but his cough. 

She watched the Dubois family climb onto the cart. It had been a long day for the little ones and they would want supper and bed as soon as they got home. Jean took the reins and called out to her "Hop up, pity to spoil your finery." He patted the space beside him on the driving seat. Adèle could picture him brushing against her and leering at her bosom.  
"Thank you but I'll walk. It's a nice evening."  
His face darkened briefly and then he turned away "Suit yourself. See you later." and with a switch of the reins he drove off.

No, he would _not_ see her later, she decided. It was not to be borne, his assumption that her body would be his simply because she had no means to resist him. He had never tried to enter her bedroom, but the dread of him doing so had haunted her nights. She was tired of being watchful and afraid.

She walked part of the way back with a group of youngsters, but reaching the crossroads and catching sight of Gerberoy from afar, her companions decided to race each other over the remaining distance. Once they were safely away, she turned and headed south instead. 

She would have to forego the little money she had earned from the Dubois, she had left it in a little box in her room. At least the problem of Monsieur was solved. She felt a pang of sympathy for Madame, exhausted from dealing day and night with children and husband. 

She would make her way to St Gilles in the Vendée where her mother lived. It would be good to see her again and tell her about Paris. She'd have to put up with the stepfather, but she'd soon find some sort of employment, she was sure. Adèle sighed; how far could her coins take her by coach? She would have to find work as she went, enduring the mistrust of strangers once more. 

The sound of hoofbeats interrupted her thoughts; Adèle knew she stood out in her finery on the lonely road. As the horseman overtook her he glanced sideways and brought his horse to a halt.

"You all right, Madame?"

Adèle sighed to herself. She was used to the loaded charm of an opportunist, and she was aware how she was dressed; for a meeting with a lover.

"I was just taking the air and looking for flowers to add to my collection,"  
He shifted in the saddle, clearly confused as to what a well-dressed woman would be doing late in the day in this isolated place.  
"You look a little overdressed for such simple pleasures. Are you sure you don't need help?"

She noted his handsome face and fascinating greenish eyes. He wore swords and a pistol at his belt; so, not a peacock out to impress but some sort of soldier.  
"Well....."  
"Madame, you are perfectly safe with me," His voice had a world-weariness that no seducer would attempt.

Adèle came out with her robbery story, adding "I have been staying with relatives in Paris. I live with my mother in the Vendée and that's where I was headed."  
"I am going in the direction of Rouen, and suggest that there would be the best place to catch a coach and head south. It would get you home in about a day."

Adèle found herself sitting pillion on the stranger's black Friesian; its back broad enough for her to feel safe from falling. "Put your arm around me if you need to," The man muttered in a businesslike way.  
"My name is Therese Rodier, by the way. Are you from Paris?"  
"Depends what you mean by 'from'. I'm based there at the moment. I am Athos of the King's Musketeers." 

A Musketeer! He would know her beloved Aramis! She longed to ask about him, if he was all right after the inevitable discovery of his pistol under her bed, but she could not. She didn't remember this man Athos, they had never met; she hoped he had not seen her somewhere and recognised her.

They rode for several miles in silence, but Adèle could feel her companion was thinking. What was occupying his mind so deeply? she wondered. 

They came to a large village and Athos drew rein outside a tavern.  
"I think we should get something to eat and maybe find a room for the night. It is growing dark and riding pillion must be getting uncomfortable for you." He helped her from the horse, removed his hat and led her inside.

Adèle felt out of place in her soiled finery, but no one was staring openly at her although she was sure her presence was noted. They would probably mistake her for her companion's mistress. The Musketeer Athos seemed unconcerned. He ordered ale and two platters of bread and cheese and sat opposite her in a quiet corner seat.

"Now you can tell me what kind of trouble you are in,"  
"Direct, aren't you?"  
"It's the easiest way of finding things out. My guess is that you have fled from something or someone. With little means of carrying coin, I assume this meal will be welcome."

Adèle shook her head, "My life is in great danger."  
He nodded as if this was the first thing she had said that he believed, "Go on,"  
"If I tell you, it could put you in some danger as well. The attempt on my life was by a powerful man who will not want it known." 

He was silent. Adèle looked up into his face and saw his eyes had widened slightly.  
"Your name is not Therese but Adèle, if I'm right in what I'm thinking."  
It was her turn to be silent. Had Aramis mentioned her to his friends?  
"Don't worry, you are quite safe. I'm guessing the Cardinal is behind this." Athos took a long pull at his ale and sat back in his seat.

It wasn't difficult to tell this man Athos her troubles. His expression was grave but there was no hint that he didn't believe her or was unsympathetic. "Just one more thing," She added... "The Cardinal will have discovered that Aramis and I were lovers. If Armand - the Cardinal - found out that I was unharmed and back in Paris with Aramis he would take it badly. Please don't tell Aramis anything. Let him think I have just disappeared."  
"I agree, it is for the best. We must also think of the men who let you escape. Now we need to get you to safety."  
"I have a small amount of money but probably not enough - oh wait, I've got a silver ring and a diamond hair comb. I could sell them - would it be enough, do you think? I might have to spend a couple of nights at an inn waiting for the right coach."  
He nodded. "I have an idea, I think we can sort something out."  
"You're really kind. Thank you."

The tavern's bed bore no comparison to Adèle's in Paris but it was free from fleas and lice. Fortunately she didn't have to share it with strangers and could sleep soundly. There was something about this man Athos which inspired confidence. There would never be the need to bar the door from him.

They reached Lyons-La-Forêt by lunchtime the following day. It was little more than a hamlet in size but had a cluster of neat little houses. A small square in the centre had a horse trough but no inn. This was a place to pass through on the way to somewhere else. Athos drew his horse to a halt outside a nondescript two-storey house.  
"You'll be quite safe here," He muttered, helping Adèle down. "It's the home of a good friend of mine who was also a victim of the Cardinal. She runs a school now."

A slim, fair-haired woman came out and greeted Athos who drew her aside in low conversation. Once or twice Adèle could feel the woman's eyes on her. She had a serious but beautiful face, almost regal in expression and it was clear she knew the Musketeer well. Adèle wondered if they had ever been lovers but couldn't decide. To her surprise Adèle felt a slight pang of jealousy; in the short time she had known him, she had found herself becoming drawn to the Musketeer Athos. 

"Welcome, Mademoiselle," The lady said, approaching her, "You can stay with me in my simple school; read, rest, wander in the apple orchard. There's no hurry for you to leave, if you need a few days to rest and make plans."  
Out of recent habit, Adèle gave a small curtsey, "Thank you so much, I'm sorry to have to inconvenience you...."  
"You are no inconvenience to anyone here. Any woman in distress may stay as long as she needs."

Adèle noted the woman's simple clothing and wondered how she could afford this place, the school, everything. Then she looked at Athos and realised.  
"I'm so grateful - and relieved to be here..."  
"My name is Ninon. You need not tell me yours if you would rather not, but I promise you that you are safe and among friends."

Adèle liked the sound of that; when was the last time she had been among friends?


End file.
